What I should have been...
by The Illusionist
Summary: A very angsty piece from Voldemort's point of view, showing you a little thought on his past life. Showing that maybe, at one time, he wasn't the evil abomination he is now.


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What I should have been…

Voldemort looked down quietly at the grave before him, which read his father's name in dark gothic letters. Dark consuming robes flowed over Voldemort's thin frame, and from behind the dark hood two bright red eyes could be seen. Slowly, he brought a hand up to the cuff of his hood and lowered it, his black hair tickling into his pale face. 

"Worthless Muggle." He spat at the grave, narrowing his almond red eyes, "You worthless excuse for a human being.I don't know what my mother saw in you. I am sickened to know I was fathered by… such filth." He gave a thin-lipped smile, a crazed glint in his eye; "I should have never become Voldemort. Well, if I had been raised properly… not abandoned… I would be a smart, handsome, proud wizard with a family and close friends… That is what I should have been, but now is what I would never be.

"No, this is who I am now. I am the vile creature that stands before you. I do not stand in front of you as a man, but as a murderer, someone so sick with greed for power and lust for pain that I haven't gone a day without torturing someone. But have you know it that I am more of a human then you were; you left, but I did not abandon my followers; no, no, they abandoned me.

"But think of how different I would have been if you would have been around. Did you know the sorting hat almost put me in Gryffindor? No, I guess you wouldn't… well, let me tell you this little story then… 

**_Tom slipped the huge hat on, shaking slightly on the stool; "Hm… Slytherin blood, you don't say…" _**

"What?" Tom asked, nearly falling off the chair at the voice. 

"You have Slytherin blood… but you do not belong there" the voice whispered into his ear. 

"What do you mean I don't belong there? Of course I do! I'm a Slytherin at heart!" Tom whined furiously.

"It is too dangerous," The hat mused to itself, "Yes, but take my word that Gryffindor would be a safer place for you. You could be great there, you know." The hat sniffled slightly, as if it had a cold, "This is quite a hard decision. Half of your heart belongs in Gryffindor, the other half aches for Slytherin. You could be great in either, but in Gryffindor you would be a powerful, noble wizard. Slytherin would just teach you to be dark and do anything to meet your goals, no matter how it affects others." 

"I don't care." Tom hissed, "I want Slytherin!" 

"Alright, fine. You will be great in SLYTHERIN!" 

"Now let's put you into the picture, why don't we? I would have loved you, and I would have wanted to impress you by being a Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat knew I had potential to be powerful in either house, and he knew that it was his own choice which path I would go down. He decided I needed to learn my own path and yielded to my protests. If I had been in Gryffindor, things would have been so much different. Hell, even if I had been in Slytherin and had you as a father I would have grown old to be known as a noble and very intelligent man, Tom Riddle. But because you left me, I am Lord Voldemort, not Tom Riddle and I am certainly not noble or good-willed. 

"People will ask someday why I went down the path I went down. They will say it started the minute I was put into Slytherin, but you and I both know it started before I was born, when you left her… What a sick creature to leave his own love and unborn son over petty differences. It's like a Jewish man leaving his beloved because he finds out she has Hitler's blood running through her veins. The _blood doesn't matter; _it's only the person that ever mattered_. _It must be a weak man not to know that, and because a weak man didn't, I am the evil you see before you.

"I can almost taste how sweet life would have been with you as a father. I would have a family, someone I loved and I would be sitting with people I considered friends and not followers, cracking jokes and passing drinks to the rest of them. They wouldn't quiver or stutter in my presence, but laugh at my jokes. Yes, I could have seen myself full of something as simple as humor. That is how it should have been… and because of you, that is how it would have never been." Voldemort turned his dark eyes over the other graves, pausing at his father's again before bringing his hood up over his head again and walking away.

**__**

I'm so sorry, Tom…


End file.
